


Sick of Body Not of Heart

by Pappels (SabakuNoKel)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, mentions of throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 03:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabakuNoKel/pseuds/Pappels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is sick. Good thing Cecil is there to take care of him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick of Body Not of Heart

Carlos was sick.

He hated being sick. His throat was scratchy, his head felt woozy and his body ached all over. Worst of all he was not allowed anywhere near the research facility as he and the other scientists had no idea what his illness would do to the experiments they were conducting. Being sick was horrible because if left him with nothing to focus on.

Well, not nothing.

Carlos had called Cecil that morning after he'd been told not to come into work until he was healthy once again because the two had planned a lunch date for that afternoon which would now have to be rescheduled. Carlos had expected Cecil to react with disappointment to his announcement but to accept it none the less and wish for his swift recovery.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that was not how it went, this was Night Vale after all.

Cecil had insisted on taking care of him, stating that 'it was part of his duties as boyfriend, no really it's in the contract Carlos I cant believe you missed that part it was right after appropriate date wear.' and so he'd let the other man come over after a few halfhearted protests and 'are you sure?'s. Cecil told him he'd yell at management that he was taking the day off and he'd be there soon.

Carlos wasn’t sure how long it took for Cecil to arrive, as he had been drifting in and out of consciousness on the sofa, when the doorbell rang, the sound grating on his ears and pounding in his skull. He dragged his protesting body to the door, opened it, and was instantly crowded by a worried Cecil cooing at him and murmuring things like; "Oh my poor, poor Carlos!" and "Did you happen to ingest any two-headed fish? You certainly look like you did." As he ran fidgeting hands over Carlos' pale face and bare shoulders.

Carlos reassured the man he had not ingested anything with two-heads in the recent past and that he'd probably just caught the flu. This may have been the wrong thing to say though as Cecil stared at him in horror before quickly checking his hands to count his fingers and making the scientist open his mouth to, apparently, check the colour of his gums. Not having found whatever it was he was looking for Cecil let out a sigh of relief, gently scolded Carlos for giving him such as scare, and then ushered him inside, pausing only to flip over the mirror in the hallway.

While glad for the company Carlos couldn’t help but feel like a burden as Cecil tucked him into bed and chanted something that sounded like it was being spoken in reverse from where he sat in a chair by his bedside, the other man ready with a glowing tissue for every sneeze and checking his temperature at regular intervals with the thermometer Carlos had asked him to use instead of a citrus spoon. Carlos had never needed anyone's help, he was a scientist after all, but when Carlos had to rush to the bathroom to pray to the porcelain god Cecil had been right beside him, holding back his hair and stroking his back in a soothing manner while saying things like; "Oh, I see someone had some Big Rico's for dinner last night."

Carlos was glad to have someone as caring as Cecil as his boyfriend.

Cecil's voice calmed and distracted him from the horrible feeling of puking up all he'd had in his stomach recently so he'd let the radio host talk away, even if his stories sometimes weren't the nicest to listen to.

"I recall the story about how Patty Brownheart threw up into her mixing bowl one time while baking muffins for the bi-yearly Night Vale Tap-dance party but she forgot all about it mere seconds after it happened and continued on baking. Later while the party was in full swing Joel Duson, who after the events of the party was taken along with Miss Brownheart by the Secret Police to an undisclosed location, took a bite out of one of the muffins, he then promptly threw up as well and proceeded to forget about it."

Carlos' stomach rolled unpleasantly at the thought of eating a throw-up muffin but as there was nothing left in his stomach to regurgitate he spat one final time into the porcelain bowl before wiping his mouth with paper towels. He then shakily got to his feet, Cecil hovering next to him with his arms out in case he took a tumble, flushed the toilet and staggered over to the sink to grab his grape flavored mouthwash.

While he rid his mouth of the foul taste Cecil continued talking.

"I have never thrown up so I don’t know what it's like, or maybe I have and have simply forgotten about it. Either way it doesn’t look like a pleasant experience."

Carlos spat into the sink before replying; "It isn't, maybe that's why the people of Night vale forget about it, that way they don’t have to remember the discomfort of expelling a mixture of partially digested food and stomach acid."

Examining himself in the mirror over the sink Carlos found his usually dark skin ashen looking, his curls matted to his forehead with sweat and his eyes bloodshot. Not exactly the state he wanted anyone to see him in but he knew Cecil wouldn’t think any less of him for not appearing 'perfect' while racked with illness.

Cecil, who was still pondering Carlos' earlier statement with a confused look on his face, shrugged briefly to himself before turning to Carlos and putting his hands on the sick man's middle to steady him as the radio host led them from the bathroom, the light going off behind them despite Carlos not having felt either of Cecil's hands move from his body.

"Well lets just get you to bed, unplug the TV in the living room, and I'll make you a nice turkey sandwich to help you on the road to recovery." Cecil said as he tucked Carlos back into bed. Carlos was glad that his body didn’t protest at the sound of food as it had been doing for the past eight hours and figured that most of his sickness had been expelled and was now rushing down the sewer to wherever the Night Vale sewers led.

"Thank you Cecil, could you do me one favor though?" Carlos asked as he settled against his cushions.

"Of course."

"Could you make some soup as well?" The request was met by Cecil's brows knitting in confusion in that way they always did when Carlos requested something he considered odd.

"Soup? But its not a second Sunday." Cecil said, like it was the most logical thing in the world, to him it probably was.

Carlos nodded like he understood. "It's something my mother used to do when I was younger." He explained, a smile touching his lips when he thought about his mother and how happy she'd been when he'd told her he was seeing someone.

Cecil smiled as well. "Okay, if you're sure." The radio host said before turning and leaving the room, the sound of rummaging coming from down the hall just a few seconds later. Carlos' apartment wasn’t big but he that was okay because that way Cecil was always within hearing distance.

He could hear Cecil humming to the tune of yesterday's weather as Carlos recited the periodic table in his head.

He'd just finished the halogens when Cecil returned with one of the metal trays Carlos used when he took his experiments home with him, a heavily piled sandwich on a small plate and a steaming bowl of traditional Dutch split pea soup set on top. He would have preferred chicken but all chickens as well as any chicken products were property of the local _KFC_.

Cecil set the tray down on Carlos' lap and placed a bottle of _Coca Cola_ on his nightstand, the only drink allowed on Fridays. Carlos would have liked to kiss Cecil but as he was still quite gross and sick so he settled for saying thank you as he squeezed Cecil's hand. Cecil looked so happy he could burst right out of his skin and that brought a smile to Carlos' lips as he picked up his spoon and started on the soup. The split pea soup tasted vaguely of avocado even though it smelled, looked and had the texture of split pea soup but Carlos chose not to dwell on that, figuring that was an experiment for later as he continued eating.

After he'd finished the soup, he'd been hungrier than he'd thought, Carlos shared his sandwich with Cecil and they ate and indulged in small talk in between bites. After they finished Cecil took the tray back to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of _Coca Cola_ for himself and two silly straws, Carlos selected the yellow skull-shaped one while Cecil took the blue one in the shape of a cat.

Carlos glanced over at the clock as he popped the cap on his _Coca Cola_ bottle, the clock that was still running slightly off, and noticed that at this time Cecil was usually updating the people of Night Vale of the events on the community calendar.

"I'm sorry I pulled you away from your broadcast, I know how important the show is to you." Carlos said, looking over at the other man. Cecil blinked once before realization set in, a blush alighting his cheeks with a strange pink glow.

"You're important to me as well." Cecil declared and it sounded like 'I love you'.

"And you to me." Carlos replied, 'I love you back'. "Still, I like it when you do your shows, like the day isn't complete without it." Carlos admitted, a little ashamed. It was a little strange to become so attached to a radio show when he had the host himself sitting at his bedside, tending to him in his time of sickness, and sharing his life but it was the way he felt.

Cecil looked at him, a dopey smile on his face the same as when he was thinking about Carlos' hair. Cecil set his bottle of cola down on the nightstand, straightened his back and cleared his throat softly, catching Carlos' attention.

_"Ghosts are just the trapped and lingering spirits of our loved ones who want nothing more but to lead us on our path to happiness. They are also the trapped and lingering spirits of our enemies who wish to drag us kicking and screaming down the road of eternal suffering. How do you differentiate between the two? You don’t. Welcome to Night Vale."_

Carlos blinked in surprise as Cecil blew right into an update on the tortoise motorcycle gang that had arrived in town three days ago, his feeling of surprise quickly replaced with a sense of right as he listened to the calming sounds of Cecil's report.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided not to give a description of Cecil so that everyone can imagine him the way they like.


End file.
